


A Thought, a Friend, and a Whole Lot of Nothing.

by Migraines_and_Melodicas



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Gen, HOW DO YOU TAG THINGS, Hurt/Comfort, I'm sorry I promised I'd update it not now but soon, Nihilism, general sadness, hmu if you think things in here need tagging, season 2 finale spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-26
Updated: 2016-10-30
Packaged: 2018-08-27 05:58:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8389867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Migraines_and_Melodicas/pseuds/Migraines_and_Melodicas
Summary: Rick has a lot of time to think, and that's never a good thing.  For the universe, or himself.





	1. Unlikely.

Prison was cold as Hell.

He would know.

He'd been there and back.

 

     The past year or so, or so he assumed it was, had been a blank, flat lot of nothing with no one to talk to. At first, he had almost relished in the silence. But quiet has a funny way of befriending you, and becoming that sort of overbearing friend that pushes any other away. It had taken most of that year to figure out that even if he could talk to someone, he would just wind up repeating the same mistake that had left him willingly subjecting himself to being restricted to a wall behind maximum security, left to suffer the rest of his dwindling number of days as a captured criminal, all for the sake of... a family that probably wouldn't want him back after all this time.

      It's not like he could really blame them.

      What was there to do today? Push against the restraints again? His wrists were still killing him from the previous day. Metal against skin for months on end, aside from damaging, was just as boring as just about everything else. This boredom was so frigid, so unlike the warm lackadaisicality of sitting around and doing nothing by choice, just shooting the shit with a friend who said only variations of the same kind of thing, or just staring at the T.V. without really watching. Spending time on some stupid, wonderful adventure with--Stop. He couldn't continue the thought. It felt like it would be the death of him.

     Being alone had given him a lot of time to think. It had started with scheming, a hot-feeling stab through him in anticipation of some kind of escape, or death in the process. Soon to follow had been regret. Not for things he shouldn't have done, but the things he should've. The people who would die hating the wanderer who'd dropped into their lives, made a complete mess of it, and rocketed back to space, nothing more than a comet with a tail made of things he regretted, would never hear a word of positivity from him, despite their centrality in his life. This too, he thought, would kill him. would be the death of him. There was a whole lot of dying here for so few body bags.

     There was no use to another extensive dumpster dive through what he assumed to be a bag of shit memories he'd only placed on pedestals due to the nature of his current meaningless existence. There was no use to wishing things had gone differently, because they had. Just not for him. In some alternate universe, some distant, gleaming life to aspire for, things had gone alright. Even so, he was sure the poor bastard must have some troubles of his own. There was no use to telling himself to stop thinking about it, he was going to think about it, whether he wanted to or not. There was no use to telling himself there was no use, it was no use, no use at all. There was no use to any of it.

     So what was the purpose of this, in the grand scheme of things? Prison for life wasn't meant to reprimand, it was meant to shove a problem to the back of the universes' mind, and feel as though they've made the galaxy just a little bit safer. Because of course, chaos is dangerous, but not even chaos himself could break from his bonds. So the universes were "safe". What a load of shit that was. No one was safe so long as places with chains and mind-dulling emptiness existed. And what if he did get out? Freedom to leave, maybe... Someone out there still wanted to see him?

 

Unlikely.

Just another chance to look for friends who had all been taken from him.

Just another chance to fall flat on his face.


	2. Appologies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyyyy so this fic is not abandoned, I'm posting the next chapter next week! Sorry I forgot I was writing this,,,
> 
> ~Lapis

And fall flat on his face, he did.

Quite literally.

     Rick pushed his face off of the cold metal grating, unable to do much more than blink in confusion before he came back to his senses.  Flashing red lights poured in, all of the criminals having been released from their bonds, many of them looking just as dazed as he was as he pushed himself to his feet.  It was no easy task, as his legs felt like jelly and his head was swimming from all of the motion, but being upright was starting to take an effect.  

He was out.

He was out...?

...?

     He shook his head as if to clear it.  It could've been a dream.  Though it was just as unlikely as other things.  Since when does something good happen in a dreams? He squinted, looking around the room, not having the slightest idea of what to do from here, the mumbles of confusion and discontentment from the other criminals filling his brain with static.  One thing was for certain, and it was that there was no way in Hell they had been let go for a good reason.  Was there a chance another prisoner had gotten loose and set all of them free? 

No, he thought, no criminal in their right mind would help a bunch of people that may be way worse than them.  Then again, he wasn't the only one in this hellhole who was a little touched in the head.  He cracked his neck to the side, a bit more loudly than intended, getting ready for whatever may be coming.  It wouldn't be good.  He was so sure it wouldn't be good.  Why would anyone expect this to be good... 

     The doors sliding open were like a grater on his nerves, the sound of metal on metal screaming threats into the cold, sharp air.  There were guards, but not many of them.  Not even nearly enough of them to detain this many criminals.  What were these bureaucrats thinking? All eyes were turned on them, the room full of people all staring like starving wolves,  ready to move in for the kill at the slightest notice.  He too was ready to kill just to have something to do.  

That was when all hell broke loose. 

    Being charged by guards with guns wouldn't have scared him in the slightest.  He wanted nothing more than to be blown away, it would have been so relieving.  It was what the guards were doing that struck him.  They were grabbing the prisoners and throwing up in their mouths.  Then the prisoners were doing the same.  Oh for fuck's sake. A hive mind.  

     He felt himself get smacked against a wall in all of the fighting, knocking the wind out of him and dropping him on his knees, pretty sure that he had broken a few ribs.  It wasn't the other guy's fault really, Rick was just a lot smaller than they were.   Struggling to catch his breath as the rest of the prisoners were assimilated, there was nothing he could do, he was next, and he was starting to feel pretty okay with that.

     Yeah... If he was part of a hive mind, he wouldn't be himself anymore.  He wouldn't have to deal with all of this anymore.  It was the next best thing to being dead.  He barely noticed when the fighting had fallen silent, the blood roaring in his ears as he accepted his fate.  

     "Rick?!" The voices rang out.  All combined in a sort of... Oh what was the word...

     "U-Unity?!" A sharp cough escaped him, his voice hoarse with disuse. He lifted his head, looking up at them with wide eyes, utterly in shock.  This could have been a dream.  He cleared his throat, quickly regaining his composure. 

"H-how uh... How's that whole practical alliance going... Well I hope..." 

     "Rick, I assimilated them, what... What happened to you...?" 

     "I-I was arrested... Y'know... For crime... L-Look Un, I'm sorry about what happened.  I was a-a selfish asshole, and I shouldn't have been that way.  Not with you.  So could you please just... Get it over with..."

      They sighed.  "I forgive you.  I should've said I wasn't happy with what was happening, and I'm sorry I didn't break up with you in person... It was kind of a dick move on my part." A smile spread across the collective, one of them moving forward to offer Rick a hand. "Get what over with?" 

     Rick didn't take their hand, remaining on his hands and knees, trembling.  "Just assimilate me already..." 

     The collective shook their head, visibly upset.  "Rick, why would I  _do_ that? You're my friend, I can't just-"

     " _I-I don't want to be me anymore_."

**Author's Note:**

> Soooo, that's chapter one. Its probably going to be a few chapters long, and will update as frequently as possible.
> 
> See you space cowboy...
> 
> ~Lapis


End file.
